


Lepidoptery

by AngelicEclair



Series: Lepidoptery [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicEclair/pseuds/AngelicEclair
Summary: A collection of short stories following the relationship between the reader and Albert Wesker. Some may be one-offs, while others may have a cohesive plot and several chapters.  These stories may contain depictions of sexual content or other mature themes. There will be proper warnings in place if need be.Feel free to give feedback and suggestions for future parts! However, Keep in mind I have no beta reader, so there may be mistakes in the writing.





	1. Insectorum sive Minimorum Animalium Theatrum

“Fascinating,” (Y/N) muttered, observing a sample of the Ouroboros virus writhe underneath the microscope lens. The scientist cocked her head to the side and quickly jotted down a few more words into her moleskin notebook before peering back down at the unique viral strain. It read:

Once Uroboros comes into contact with an organism’s cells and infects them, it inserts its genes into the host’s genome in an attempt to merge with the host. For those whose genetic sequence is compatible with Uroboros, the merge is successful, bestowing superhuman abilities upon the host. Those whose genomes are incompatible fall to the virus’ uncontrolled amplification, and their cells are overtaken by Uroboros. The resulting infected tissues, organized into undifferentiated tentacles, absorbs the body of the host and any other organic matter it can reach. These tentacles are held together by yellow pustule-like organs, which are its only weak-point.

 

Since no compatible hosts have been seen to live long enough for the full effects to be observed, it is unknown what kind of capabilities they might receive in the course of T-Virus infection. However, due to the fact that it was designed to accept a small percentage of the human population, it could be said to force evolution upon the human race. If Uroboros had been spread across the globe, it would have weeded out those with unsuitable DNA, and selected for genomes compatible with its own genetic material.

 

Feeling satisfied with the data she had collected, she sighed contently and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, leaning back into the counter behind her and facing the digital clock mounted on the wall. The florescent numbers bored into her skull and reminded her of another night of sleep wasted. But was it really “wasted” when she was helping to engineer the very substance that would bring upon a new genesis? She palmed for the mug of coffee behind her and took a quick gulp. Of course, she had her own reservations, being as though she was an advocate of peace and prosperity her entire life. But far too many people had taken her kindness for weakness and infiltrated her garden like serpents, poisoning everything.

 

She now thought it was in the world’s best interest for a rebirth that was equal parts decay and hope. The girl was made up entirely of flaws, hurt, and anger, stitched together with good intentions, but being used as a puppet for Umbrella’s bidding. This she knew, but she believed the fight towards global divinity was something worth soiling her name over. To (Y/N) “divine” meant perfection, both in beauty and cruelty. Sometimes disheartening measures had to be taken in the name of science and purification. This she had come to accept and tried to see through romantic, rose-colored lenses. 

She was always a naive one, far too gullible and trusting for her own good. How else could she have fallen into becoming a pawn for such a nefarious organization?

She set her mug back down and sighed deeply. She tried to concentrate on anything to keep her awake: the crisp air entering her lungs, the sterile smell of the lab, the pleasant burn the coffee had left on her lips. However, the buzzing of the harsh lights illuminating her work-space started to lull her to sleep, despite the mandatory freezing temperature they had to keep the lab. If only she had just one moment to close her burning eyes.

 

“Ah, (Y/N), just the one I was searching for. Why are you still here and not your quarters?” A profound voice demanded and snatched (Y/N) from the arms of sleep that had barely laid a finger on her. She hadn’t even noticed her eyes had floated shut. (Y/N) straightened herself up, timorous fingers rubbing her clouded eyes. It didn’t take a scientist to discern who that voice belonged to. Her superior, Albert Wesker skulked toward her work area, each heavy step reverberating. That man toyed with her without intention. 

 

“Just finishing up, sir. You needed to see me?” She questioned in her usual airy tone as she shoved all the lose pages back into her notebook and closed the cover.

 

“I’ve been told you’ve been overexerting yourself. Staying cooped up in the lab at all hours of the day and night. Your devotion is charming and will be rewarded bountifully, but you can’t function to your highest degree if you don’t rest.”

The young lady beamed admiringly though her droopy eyes discredited her enthusiasm just a touch.

 

“I really do appreciate your concern, sir, but I’ll be fine. We’re so close to perfecting Ouroboros. Just some minor tweaking and we will have a truly marvelous specimen.” 

 

“So ardent.”

 

The tall figure loomed closer. He cut quite the intimidating character – six-foot-three, an angular face, unblemished skin, sunglasses, combat boots, and dressed in a leather trench coat.

 

“You know I’ve been watching you very closely, little bird. Your dedication and work ethic are venerable. You have proven yourself a worthy member of my team.”

 

Now, he was circling her like a vulture.

 

“Truly noble, giving up your worldliness to save the rotten husk it has become. Some may view it as pure absurdity, but soon they will all be on their knees, chanting words of frightened awe for me and I will make sure you will get the gratitude you merit.”

 

The words he spoke went straight to her heart which warmed her cheeks to a cute peachy color. It was like a dream to her someone speak so highly of her, especially someone of his status.

 

“Those who make it their mission to try and terminate us are merely postponing the inevitable. One day you will see yourself what a service you have done for the world. Those who exist in it now are just too frail-minded to appreciate your genius and perpetuation of the vision.” He was now just a few short feet from the researcher who was like putty in his hands.

 

“However,”

Her heart clenched at the monotonous transition. This was undoubtedly bad news.“I’ve also been watching other things…your body. Your lithe form. Your delicate curves. So petite and nymph-like. I feel if I hold you too tight you’d crumble to silver dust.”

 

The young lady’s heart clenched once more for a far different reason. She knew as soon as he said those words she would be replaying them in her head for weeks to come, with giddy, school-girl squeal. For once, her ego was floating above sea level, but it was far too much to take in at once. She was burning up and overwhelmed. 

 

“T-thank you, sir…I will follow your orders to rest up. S-see you-“

 

Wesker smirked and waggled his finger. “Ah-ah-ah, (Y/N), you haven’t been dismissed yet.” (Y/N) faltered back into her place and observed Wesker with puzzlement as he drew out a syringe from his lab coat pocket.

 

“It is no clandestine that Excella envisions herself as the queen of the New World, but she only sees the triumph of a new dawn furthering her wealth and funding her shopping sprees. She is entirely oblivious to the larger picture. I know you’re not, (Y/N).”

 

(Y/N)’s suspicions were true. Wesker was merely using Excella as a device by taking advantage of her greed and covetousness.

 

“I am aware that in the past, you have been crippled emotionally and now are supporting a plan for a society of elite, adept people who will be astute enough to respect you, your emotions, and your involvement. You will be the reason they thrive.” 

 

The girl thumbed at her lip and stared at the tile as she absorbed all the information.

 

“Furthermore, I have received analysis of your blood and DNA. Your body is an impeccably compatible host for a revised version of the T-Virus. If we start you on a succession of small doses now, you will reap all the benefits of working for me and being a trustworthy individual, renowned scientist, and visionary.”  
He pulled his sunglasses off and revealed his ember-colored eyes, 

 

“You will be a goddess.”

 

His serpentine-like pupils adjusted to the stark light. Even being an avid researcher of the effects of all strains of the virus, she had never seen the affects on a compatible host, one who could handle such an intrusion and scrambling of their DNA. 

 

“Come now, dearheart.”

 

He trod towards her cautiously, like a he was creeping up on a frightened doe. An upsurge of stimulated fear snaked down her spine coldly. A gloved hand snapped around her wrist and dragged her close to him, allowing her to peer up at his face, unconcealed by sunglasses. Something about his dazzling red eyes added to the enigmatic intrigue of his lustrous, chiseled face.  
Regretfully preoccupied by his ethereal handsomeness, (Y/N) didn’t notice him lower the needle to her seized arm. Her dream-like stupor was crushed with a sharp prick to her skin and the sensation like molten iron rolling through her veins.

 

“A-ah!”

 

“I nearly forgot to brief you on the side effects. As the serum voyages through your bloodstream, you may feel feverish, weak, and overall extremely sensitive.”  
(Y/N) struggled to stay up as the dizziness set in. What was worse was Wesker’s grasp on her wrist was beginning to feel like a crushing vice. Every minute touch was overblown. The blonde placed his sunglasses and the empty syringe on the counter before gripping both of the young woman’s wrists in his hand and dipping his nose into the crook of her neck, taking advantage of her deteriorated state. (Y/N)’s knees buckled has she felt his warm breath raise to the shell of her ear. 

 

“I so want to spoil your purity and innocence, little bird.”

 

He experimentally removed his hand which had clasped (Y’N’s) hands above her head, curious to see how she would respond. Drained of energy, she could scarcely drape on arm around his neck, the other falling to her side in a balled fist. 

 

“You’re quaking.” He mused in a dark voice as a smooth gloved hand traversed her angelic curves. She could sense amusement in his voice. Wesker prized seeing her trapped and squirming, like a dove with clipped wings under a wolf’s paw.

 

“New to this, darling?” He whispered with a crooked grin. “You don’t have to be self-conscious about your inexperience. I will be in full control of what happens here.”

 

(Y/N) raised her head off his shoulder and ogled him, feeling a bit offended at the ‘inexperience’ comment, despite it being absolutely true. The tiny prickle of anger dissipated and was flooded with chills of arousal. Why was his sheer intimidation, demanding, and self-righteous nature so darkly delicious? (Y/N) should hate him for springing so much information on her and then preying on her failing body. It was creepy, but years of admiring, respecting, and having the hots for him allowed her to overlook his overbearing forwardness. The initial fire of the injection had iced over and her overly sensitive skin was covered in bumps from the coolness of the sterile laboratory. He rid the shivering lady of her lab coat, much to her dismay.

 

“Hang onto me.” He ordered. She could get drunk on his commanding tone. He was always so serious. Two large hands slid up and captured (Y/N’s) breasts through her sweater. His mouth found her neck and let his teeth barely graze the flesh. His breath beat down and teased her, causing her pink buds to harden into peaks. Wesker’s groping was coarse and reckless, a pure contrast to his cool, composed nature. He pushed her turtleneck up to expose her breasts, adorned cutely in a filigree bra. In Wesker’s self-absorbed mind, he saw them as gift-wrapped just for him. Her bare back pressed up against the cold leather of his trench coat causing more shivers to blossom throughout her body. He was cerebral, bewitching, and cruel, but that made the situation dangerously exciting. He could trounce her in one fell swoop, but he instead chose to travel the contours of her body. (Y/N) was uncomfortable, but grateful. 

“Don’t move,” he snarled and shoved her bra up her lovely breasts in one swift gesture. She whimpered and rolled her head towards his face and risked glowering into his bright red eyes. 

 

“Indulge me in your fantasies, dear (Y/N). You’ve wanted this for quite some time, haven’t you?”

 

She never understood desire until she met Wesker and it had been growing steadily to a volatile fever pitch, sure to destroy her in the end. Even in her enfeebled state, being totally consumed by his much larger frame, with his fingers pinching her nipples roughly was making her wetter by the second.

 

“W-Wesker…”

 

She shivered, shifting her hips side to side to subdue the swelling blaze growing. He unlatched his teeth from her shoulder and cooed mockingly. 

 

“What, little bird? You want me to stop?”

 

“N-no, please don’t…”

He chuckled and a hand splayed across her taut tummy skid down to the lacy band of her panties that were peeking above her trousers. 

 

“My, my…so eager.”

 

He left her so breathless, he left her sick. She was going to destroy herself, and then want it again. His hand dipped into her underwear and dragged his fingertips against her soaked slit, drawing a surprised gasp from (Y/N). 

 

“It doesn’t come as a surprise to me that you’re dripping for me, but it is surprising that such a prestigious scientist, so engrossed in work at all times of day lets the smallest of touches unravel her thoughts.”  
His ministrations grew quicker, driving shy murmurs from her mouth.  
“Just a moment ago, I injected you with a virus only a select few humans can handle, yet it is the least of your worries.”

 

Wesker grasped a finger of his leather glove in his teeth and shimmied it off his hand, casting it aside. His hand plunged back into her panties, the warmth of his fingers unobscured by the leather was a new and wonderful sensation. His right hand cupped her slit with no preamble and he made a V with his fingers to spread her open. He rubbed against her entrance and collected the slick that had accumulated there, spreading it upwards back to her swollen bud, where he drew quick circles again. 

 

“Convince me that your devotion is not just to me, but to this corporation and the plan at hand. Don’t let yourself become another Excella. I better not be making a mistake by investing in you.”

 

(Y/N) choked out a mewl, not able to think of a reply as another roll of his fingers drew her back up to heaven. She closed her eyes to enjoy the balmy waves of pleasure that crept up her spine as he picked up a steady pace. After a bit he pressed harder and started rubbing side to side. The captured girl struggled to swallow down a whine as she ground into his calloused hand in approval. In response, a thick digit sank inside her. It moved out fast and purposefully upwards on its way back in, brushing against a spot that made her stomach tense. He found a rhythm and (Y/N) let her eyes flutter shut, enjoying the push-pull of warmth that grew low in her stomach. The scientist inhaled through her teeth as Wesker pumped in and out, sighing out a breath that wavered from the motion of his arm.

 

Tension raced up her spine as she felt him drive his fingers all the way in then spread them apart, stretching her untouched hole open before drawing them out agonizingly slowly. The motion had her shaking, letting out a humiliating, shaky little “Wesker…”.

 

Just what he wanted.

 

Suddenly, Wesker ripped (Y/N’s) dress pants down and they fell unceremoniously around her ankles. He made quick work of his belt and pushed his pants down mid-thigh. He grabbed her underneath her knocking knees and hiked her up against his chest, so that her slit was hovering just above his twitching length. 

“I’m going to enjoy playing with you.” 

 

He smirked before sinking her against the tip and letting his swollen member rest heavily on her bud, sticky wetness smearing all over her. (Y/N)’s breath hitched at the first sight of his girth. “I-It’s so…big.” He cocked a knowing smirk and aligned their sexes. Wesker shoved his hips up to meet hers. There was a distinct pressure that grew in her loins as she was stretched wide open. (Y/N) hung her head and peered down at the floor where two large boots were rooted, supporting his body as he held her up, splayed open for anyone to see if they just so happened to wander in. He pressed up harder until the head popped inside. Her clammy hand came up to muffle a squeal of discomfort. This simply urged the shrouded man onward as he grinned wickedly, instantly starting up an unforgiving pace. His extreme seductiveness was at the boundary of horror. Drool dribbled from (Y/N)’s pretty lips as she panted loudly, tightening her grip around his neck while the other hand shyly covered one bouncing breast. 

 

“Don’t be modest now. You so readily complied with your boss taking you in the middle of the open.”

 

Tears rose in (Y/N)’s eyes at the predicament she was in, the dull pain in her lower half, and Wesker’s unrelenting pace that only seemed to quicken, flying to inhuman speeds. Unsurprisingly, he was unaffected. The only thing she could discern was the drumming of her heart in her ears and the echoing slap of skin made when the man slammed his hips into hers. Being completely at his mercy was equal parts horrifying and exciting. He held her up and rutted inside her with ease, like she was a limp doll, weighing no less than a feather. 

 

“You are a worthy follower of mine, but you will have to continue to prove yourself best candidate for my partner in the New World.” His chest vibrated under her back as rasped out. The girl opened one eye and turned to face him, trying her best not to whimper and shudder while looking right at him. His face was still pale. He didn’t seem to have even broken a sweat, but a few strands of golden hair hung just above his brow. He looked irresistible.  
“You would keep me occupied quite nicely. Your innocence is a virtue and I love seeing your red face when I wreck you completely.” He mused. It was a strange sight to behold: a man pumping his hips like his life depended on it while speaking so steady and articulately. 

 

“You aren’t empty-headed, though. You have quite a lovely brain. You are not expendable like the lot.”

 

A sweet cry hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as she struggled to breathe while being pounded so hard. As if involuntary, her hand snaked down and fingers brushed over her soaked nub, trying and failing to rub in time to his slams. She let out a choking sob as she gave herself and any shred of dignity to Wesker.  
“I can see you’re enjoying yourself.” He chuckled to himself, proud of the mess he had made of (Y/N). “Simply can’t get enough, can you?”

The girl’s toes curled painfully as the coils tightened in her abdomen, heralding her release. Her body still felt incredibly weak and heavy, but she was still amazingly sensitive. (Y/N) could feel every twitch and throb of Wesker’s thick length as he buried himself in her over and over again. In that moment, with the help of the virus’ side effects, Wesker had successfully melted his greatest mind into a whimpering, mushy mess – hungry for more, more, more. 

“That’s a good girl.”

All shreds of coherent thoughts were swept away in the wind when a particularly rough thrust that had (Y/N) clapping a hand over her mouth.

 

“I know you’re close.” He grumbled. 

Before the utterly destroyed girl could muster a reply, he positioned her back on the ground and propelled her towards the ground, taking both of her wrists in his hands and continuing to devastate her bruised hole. 

A hand bolted underneath hers, which was absentmindedly spreading her sweet folds apart for him and began massaging her tiny bud. It was if every nerve in her body snapped at once and sparkled as a moment of idyllic distress washed over her with more fierceness than she ever believed possible, especially in her dazed condition.

 

“Wesker!”

 

The fair-haired man bore down as he felt her heavenly-silk walls clamp around him and spasms ripple through. He clenched his teeth and squeezed (Y/N)’s wrists. His orgasm hit like a tidal wave that washed through his core and out through his limbs. His breath was a bit uneven for the first time during their entire escapade and he made his first real sound of approval – a guttural rumble as he felt (Y/N) weakly squeeze and spasm around him as the aftershocks of her high left her and her body pouting for a moment’s reprieve without him inside her.

 

He lowered her a bit before letting her topple onto the floor, breasts and behind bare. Wesker’s thick seed spilled from her and she heaved as the ache settled in her bones.

 

(Y/N) could hear Wesker zip up his trousers and adjust his leather trench coat. When she shifted her position on the cold floor, she peered out at him from under her tousled hair.

 

“Unfortunately, it looks like playtime is over, dear heart.”

He cogitated, grabbing his sunglasses off the counter and hiding away his brilliantly-bright eyes once again.

 

“Now, clean yourself up and head to bed, little bird.”


	2. Metamorphosis Naturalis

A week after the encounter (Y/N) was still steeped in thought about the merciless coition; the breakneck pace, the way he dug his fingers into her supple thighs and held her spread for all to potentially see, like a pinned butterfly. Cold spiders ran up the nape of her neck at the idea of seeing him again. As was common, Wesker was overseas doing business and she hadn’t the foggiest idea when he would be returning. (Y/N) knew it was inevitable, but nothing could prepare her for the all too familiar blistering sprays of humiliation that would come. She squeezed a pipette of fluid into a Petri dish and straightened herself up on the cushioned stool. Being in the very same lab he took her made it difficult to concentrate. Despite her best efforts to clog the open streams of contemplation with bushels of bacteria-related observations, her mind still wandered to the feel of his pointed canines digging into her collar bone, his breath on her skin, and his voice over the sound of their bodies meeting. ‘Little bird’, he referred to her as, his usually-deadpan voice almost sounding charmed. It was no stretch of the imagination to know Wesker knew exactly what he was doing. He was cold and calculated in everything, seduction was no different. He used it as a form of mind-control as made apparent with Excella. The P30 device was nothing in comparison. She was sick, wasn’t she? Being so enamored that an assault like that brought her sensual delight. It made her sick, but excruciatingly aroused.

‘Revolting’ she thought, about herself and the situation. Mostly herself.

She exhaled and held herself very straight as she dripped more samples onto the dish. She was haunted by the ghosts of phrases. It was a wicked thing to do, to make her pitiful, longing heart hold out for something that wasn’t going to happen. She was good at waiting, though. That seemed like such a sad thing to be good at. She was wound up tight and looked like any little shock could push her right over the edge. But it was only a few minutes until her lunch break, then she could be free of her cage of perpetual needing and could get some fresh air to clear her mind. (Y/N) leaned back and removed her safety goggles. At this point, despite handling samples of a very dangerous virus, they seemed like a ridiculous measure. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, the radiance of the light sparkled in her rose-tinted eyes. The modified T-Virus had been working in her body for an entire week and the effects were showing. Despite the change, she wasn’t going to hide them with a pair of sunglasses like Wesker opted to. Having residence in HQ meant she didn’t have to travel outside and by this point, everyone was familiar with what a host looked like.

There were a few more unsightly effects that the injection caused that she tried to hide with long-sleeved blouses. Her veins were more prominent and ran down her neck and arms like bluish trails of vines. It had made her skin pale but smooth. Her skin looked flawless, like that of a doll’s and her eyes like big glass beads. Her personality, which she monitored closely in her notes, was changing too. She was now a combination of mean angel and kind devil. Though she tried so hard to keep a grip on her sweetness, irritation bled through easily. Her senses were heightened and even hushed conversations were deafening to her pounding head. She was almost always sick to her stomach and sore, as if hung over. Even if absolutely nothing would come of it, (Y/N) wanted to consult Wesker on the changes the T-virus was bringing about and what she was supposed to do with the new abilities that were being shaped.

She tried to blame her sudden desperation the virus, but she wasn’t sure it was a side-effect. At this point, Wesker could grab her by the throat and she’d thank him for touching her skin. She wasn’t sure if when Wesker returned from his trip, she would endure as desirable in his eyes. Although, (Y/N) wasn’t sure if he actually considered her appealing or sensually alluring at all or if she was just a target of convenience or a limp plaything just to take stress and carnal wants out on when it peaked. (Y/N) had a lingering concern that her blood wasn’t actually a perfect candidate to host the modified T-virus and she would grow into an awful, hulking beast. Or was he telling the truth? Would she be transformed into a goddess with the same ethereal aptitudes as her superior? Would he logically let someone share in his glory? Most likely not, but would she be his Queen in the New World? She was as sure as she was that one day she would die that she would become both the killer and the corpse. She would grow the teeth of a tiger and try to maintain the soul of a mouse. (Y/N) knew now Femme Fatales are made with equal parts nature and nurture. She was sure that many horrors would be inflicted on her and would be forced to inflict so many horrors on other. Despite the perverse admiration she felt towards Wesker, she knew he had a nefarious imagination and would not let anything or anyone stand in the way of a new dawn.

At this time, early Uroboros studies had proved to be a dead end, repeatedly failing to give Wesker the results he had been looking for. The problem was even the attenuated version he was able to produce using antibodies harvested from subjects was far too deadly for his intended purposes. It slew every test subject outright, mutating them beyond recognition into something too unstable to last more than a few hours. The mutations weren’t what dismayed him though, it was that in the hundreds of tests he’d run there hadn’t been a single survivor. The Progenitor strain had remained nothing more than a deadly curiosity and so he’d returned to the relatively safe and predictable T-virus. What if she was just another test subject being kept around for his own amusement, much like how he kept Excella around despite his obvious contempt for the heiress. (Y/N) shivered at what would happen once she lost purpose and became obsolete. The hope that Wesker had genuine interest in her, and not just as an experimental subject, was the only glimmer of hope. 

Since Wesker left other scientists would take notes and detail her ‘development’, how she was beginning to build muscle and losing body fat without any strenuous physical activity. The would jot down her last menstruation and give her papers on how to take care of herself as a host of the T-virus, that included nutrition charts and a bottle of pills.

The airtight compartment door to the laboratory screeched open and clamp shut. (Y/N) dared to look up. In her heart she already knew who had entered. It was like Deja vu.

“Just who I was looking for.” She whispered, recalling how he announced himself the last time he sauntered into her lab.

“(Y/N), if you are not terribly busy, I would like to request your presence in my quarters as soon as possible. It is of the utmost importance.”

Without looking up, (Y/N) heard something drop onto the counter behind her. “We have much to discuss.”

The woman finally looked up and craned her neck over her shoulder. Wesker cut an intimidating figure as usual. His broad shoulders and chest adorned in the finest black leather. His goldleaf hair slicked back perfectly, without a single strand out of place. He was unnerving to say the least, but warm, honeyed arousal still trickled in her loins.

“I have many things to ask you, too.” Her voice rang out like a silver bell or a petite squeak as she eyed the black-clad man with her ruby irises. “I will answer them all to the very best of my ability, little bird.”

He raised his hand and smirked almost uncharacteristically before turning and leaving almost as quickly as he came. Like summer rain - sweet and syrupy, but only in bursts. Palming the counter behind her before fully turning around, her fingers skid across something cold and plastic. She turned and held up a keycard for the presidential suite, deeper underground in the living quarters.

The sound of her heels sharply striking the pristine carrara marble floor resounded through the ice-white corridor. (Y/N) held the keycard to Wesker’s private wing in a vice grip that was becoming hot and clammy as she neared her destination, nervously peering around corners and over her shoulder on the way. She was pale as the dead; her lips were taut; her reddening eyes were wild. She moved swift, like a shadow over the sea as if she was walking through a dream. She made a right turn. The hallway was adorned with Grecian pillars of the same marble that reached the expertly crafted crown molding. It was decorated akin to that of a five-star hotel in Paris. A red, black, and gold oriental rug was spread to a heavy door which had an illuminated slot to the right of the handle. (Y/N) felt icy worms wriggle against her spine as a sense of impending doom settled in the darkest pit of her stomach. Taking one last glance over her shoulder, she turned back and slid the card through the reader and felt her breath hitch when the reader flashed green and the door unlatched with a loud ‘clack’. Cautiously, she pushed her way inside and shut the door behind her. The room was dark, filled with ornate mahogany furniture and the sound of Clair de Lune wafting through. There was a huge bed to her left and to her right was the gargantuan living room, connected to a well-appointed kitchen. Everything was highlighted in the warm, ghostly flicker of the fireplace directly across from the bed. There were two glass cases filled with butterflies pinned to a cork board. The air smelled of strong cologne and after-shave - bitter almond, musk, new leather, and the stewed-fruit-like scent of red wine.

Wesker sat in front of the fire. (Y/N) jumped when her eyes fell over him. Upon first looking, you would not have seen him. He held a Bordeaux glass of wine which he swirled absentmindedly. His sunglasses were on the end table beside him, along with a bottle of Merlot, a book and two sheathed syringes. His eyes slowly raised to meet the young lady.

“I appreciate you joining me.”

He said in his usual sour tone. She wasn’t quite sure if he was being facetious or not. Wesker set his glass on top of the book and stood to greet his guest.

“Take a seat.”

(Y/N) hadn’t realized her fist was curved over her chest in a shy, protective manner as she stood in awe in the doorway. She cleared her throat and took a seat facing the fire. Wesker retrieved another glass off of the mantle and reached for the half-empty bottle of wine.

“I see the T-virus has already begun its work.”

The combination of his pretentious-sounding voice and the wine gushing into the glass sent shivers up (Y/N’s) spine. She shifted in the enveloping confines of the chair and accepted the glass.

“You see, you can now focus on near and far by squeezing or stretching your lenses, using the ciliary muscles and annular pads. You have formed stenopaic pupils. Unlike most nocturnal animals, who’s night vision is limited to fuzzy shades of gray, ours is crisp.”

Ours.

“So, I am going to become like you?”

(Y/N) took a careful sip of wine and met his gaze. Before long, she was swirling in the sinful depths of red.

“Not exactly, but you will be enhanced greatly.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard. Wesker stood in front of her and was backlit by the orange flames. He looked like a fallen angel.

“W-why me…why did any of that happen a week ago?”

She stuttered as she began to lose her baring.

“(Y/N),” He began. “I find myself pondering upon the absolute ineptitude that surrounds me from a day to day basis. In-proficiency, incompetence, the lack of mere brain cells— I am abhorred by the mere presence of such individuals. I watch from afar as they sink, more and more into the chasms filled with pond scum from whence they came, but you are different. You came here of your own free will and invested years into research. You are loyal and your vision for the world lines up with that of my own. As I explained earlier, Excella and the lot are only invested in hopes of monetary gain. I know you long to see a positive change. No matter the cost.”

Wesker smirked sharply and continued to pace. “I don’t participate in such foolishness without purpose. I once saw Excella as a valuable contender, but her very being is grating on the nerves. You will bring a new light into this world. One blessed with our highly-evolved intellect and strength. He will continue to purge this deplorable planet and create as I do.”

The girl nearly dropped her glass.

“You are the only one I deem worthy to carry something so sacred. View this as your recompense for being so laudable.”

They say I do not reimburse my personnel for their labor. Such banal terms they use to describe my disposition….it is not only offensive, but simply abominable. The gall to whisper about me involving myself with all sorts of debauchery with those much below my stature is absurd. They say I am just a pawn, that I am owned by humans, that I am an object, that I am reined by a force above me. There is nothing above me and I belong to no one. They say I will soften up one day; loosen my grip. But the emotions they speak of, I have none— and most definitely, harbor no sort of feeling for those who slander my name in such ways. I am not a kind person, I do not coddle, and I most definitely do not lay with random, feeble whores. I am above all these things, and woe upon those failures who refuse to recognize that quite perceptible authenticity.You take every order of mine and execute it beautifully. You are not to be associated with the lot.”

The corners of Wesker’s wine-stained lips curled into a half-hearted leer.

“The way you accepted my intrusion and let me destroy you in the open of your lab shows apt devotion on its own. You will make a superb plaything, but I would also like to probe your brain and listen to your ideas for the New World, your discoveries, and desires.”

The man turned to face the lapping flames and (Y/N) felt her mouth go dry and her cheeks ignite even brighter than before.

“However, one mistake made and you will be grimly dealt with. Heed this as your final warning.”

With a shaky breath, (Y/N) gathered enough courage to speak.

“You still want me to be your Queen and also mother a child. Your child.”

He turned on his heel and crept towards the seat where (Y/N) sat trying to wrap her mind around all the information he had just spewed.

“Correct. The plan is in its final stages. Once Oroboros is complete, we can prepare for our lives as gods of this newly birthed Eden.”

(Y/N) was at a crossroads. If she was to stay, it meant being the mate of a charismatic, but icy and unfeeling man for the rest of her days. If she declined, he would surely have her head. She evaluated whether it was better to keep her wits and go down in a blaze of glory or to stay, because it meant revenge on those who wronged her and being untouchable. Even though she had secret contempt for many people, she never wanted anyone to die, especially not because of her. She supposed, no matter her answer, ‘no’ would not be accepted.

“We are a step toward the true capabilities of virus manipulation. Natural selection will be come a potent, undeniable force which we will wield at our own will. The pressure will be immense but will lead to a world of intellectual splendor. Humankind is predictable and boring. A primitive breed with no rival, but themselves. Now we can stand up and challenge the babbling ape and bring forth a constellation of highly-developed superhumans who will cultivate a new era and I will be the bringer of this Eden. There will be no risk of self-extinction. We are nature. Breathing power. Stay with me. I can bring you more pleasure than your body can handle and plate your name in gold.”

It all sounded so sexy, despite knowing he was painting everything in rose tones just to win her. However, she felt such undeniable attraction. It was like a magnetic pull. He was the only one to every complement her or appreciate her work or who she was as a person. 

“I will, Albert. I will follow you into the dark, not matter how twisted this path becomes. I have nothing left. You are the only one that has showed me any appreciation. I understand you.”

Saying his first name stung her tongue. It felt like a gross breach of protocol, but they were equals now. Or so he said. She hoped she meant something to him. Anything to him, but it would be a stretch of the imagination. ‘Am I just another thing to kill? Am I anything at all?’ She wondered.

A knock came at the door, shoving her out of the deafening buzz of her racing thoughts.

(Y/N) rushed to her feet, ready to scatter. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like being caught in such an intimate situation with Wesker would spell trouble.

The blonde man sauntered to the door and slipped out into the hallway, not letting whoever was outside see into his domain. (Y/N’s) shoulders dropped and she sighed with relief, leaning in to listen carefully.

“Yes. You’ve been so helpful, Excella. You’re such a talented woman.”

"You flatter me, Albert.“

Her voice was always too-sweet and drawn out, like a breathy moan.

"You know what else you’re talented in?”

There was a pause.

“Irritating me. It is a shame that you are not talented enough to get my attention.”

Another pause.

“Now, stop bothering me. I’m busy.”

Excella cursed loudly and paraded back down the hallway in intense heat. She would be back though, the little python. Wesker turned back to the lady in his room and closed the door behind him. He stalked over to her like a rose-eyed wolf and gripped her chin betwixt his fingers. “Now, any other questions? Anything you would like to discuss further?”

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat, maybe two.

“Good. Now we can move on.”

In the blink of an eye, he had her by the throat, but his grip was not iron. It was soft and teasing. He swiped a syringe off the end table and popped the cover off the needle with his thumb. “It’s a fertility serum. It will make you much more agreeable, light, needy…You’ll be feeling the intended effects in just a few seconds.”

He punctuated his words by puncturing her skin with the needle to the neck.

(Y/N’s) eyes widened in abject horror at the needle vanishing into her neck, she squeaked and pawed at Wesker, a scream trapped inside, waiting to be ripped out.

“Relax.”

He uttered coldly. He gently pulled the needle out and lowered his mouth to let his teeth graze over the already-purpling spot on her graceful neck. (Y/N) winced and balled her fist.

“The most important discussion we can have right now is the conversation between my fingers and your skin.”

The serum was making her tired, worn body feel like warm waves or a glittering galaxy. She felt light, but not dizzy, sick and helplessly light like when he injected her with the T-virus in her lab a week ago. He purred against her skin which sent ripples down her spine. Wesker was in that state of fire that she was becoming familiar with and loved. She wanted to be burnt. Consumed and swallowed up by his blaze. Just a few heart beats after the injection, she couldn’t think about anything else but being stretched to the maximum to accommodate him. Every slight brush of his body against her made the pulsing deepen. She felt her panties get wet and cling to her smooth body. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to control herself, but the feeling of his lips and fang-like teeth on her hypersensitive neck was unraveling her. She wanted to be filled by him it was almost too painful to bear. 

He prodded open her hot, trembling lips with a finger before replacing it with his own. The action was almost too tender to believe coming from Wesker. Maybe the concoction he gave her cause hallucinations of the dreadfully romantic and sentimental kind. Everything felt fresh and dewy like they were plunged in the same enchanted mist, but also sinful and blackened. There were strings attached to this affair. Thick ones that kept the world from falling into a pit. He was the poison in her veins. (Y/N) crept into his waiting arms, radiant and riled. She broke away from the wild kiss for air and stared up at him with an expression that was a mixture of tender, mysterious, and impure. He looked at her with mock sympathy. His Queen was a frail, tottering, dazed darling, but had a brain. A beautiful, beautiful brain. She was his. The key was in his fist, and his fist was in his pocket.

It wasn’t a fairy floss romance. (Y/N) wasn’t the first woman he had considered and he didn’t think of her impurely or with any sweetness, but he was attached to her, for a reason he hadn’t quite deduced. As a matter of fact, he dedicated many insomnias to her. No matter, she would serve him well. Despite being inhuman and self-proclaimed too good for such activities, Wesker had a carnal hunger and his lust came in violent ways. And as always, violent delights lead to violent ends.

Wesker, hoping he satisfied (Y/N) enough with a singular kiss had moved back to her neck and was dragging his teeth along her soft flesh. He never bit down. His ministrations were light and ghostly, making her wonder if he was even there. He wasn’t messy. He didn’t lick a stripe up to her ear like she craved. (Y/N) doubted he would even give her the audacious pleasure of using his tongue on her. Far too intimate, frivolous, and dirty for a man of his stature.

“How is it making you feel?”

He rumbled plainly against her jaw.

“I-I don’t know…I can’t think…”

His smirks were always blood-chilling, his lip hiked up angularly and exposed a few sharp teeth. Even the thoughts making up the background noise in her skull were dimming. The worries that after a few more sessions he would leave her to the wolves was fading. The horrifying idea of them parenting a child was slipping away. She knew it would return in full, haunting glory as soon as they were through for the night, but for now, she didn’t care at all. The way he kept her guessing and terrified was more intoxicating than the wine they had shared.

“Then it’s working. But,” He continued in a deadly low tone. “I intend to fill you up completely, just to make sure.”

Wesker slipped his trench coat off and hung it over the armchair before stalking toward his bed, leaving (Y/N) shaking and wanting more. He unzipped his body-hugging shirt from his neck and let it slide away, exposing his perfectly sculped abs. He undid his belt and unzipped his pants before flicking his gaze back up. “Come,” He commanded. (Y/N) wandered if he had a single shy bone in his body. A little reluctantly, she moved over to him and crawled between his sprawled legs, sitting cutely on her knees. “Take all of that off.” He said almost bored-sounding. It was if he couldn’t be bothered to strip her himself. This was all a show to impress him, so he felt secure in the decision to keep her around. (Y/N) was going to have to work hard if she wanted any inkling of pleasure. This realization made a tiny, discontented whimper slip through her lips. She almost preferred him taking her like inhuman speeds and scaring her half to death at the prospect he might actually break her little hips. At least he was in control. The feeling of being at such a powerful man’s mercy was elating and animated all her darkest fantasies.

Feeling clumsy and out of place, she huffed and began slipping her lab coat off, followed by her dress blouse. She crawled over to the edge of the bed and slung her legs off the side to shimmy her slacks off until she was just in a pair of cotton panties. Every item was tossed into an unceremonious pile. When she was bare except for her bra and panties, she crawled back in between his legs and awaited her next command like an obedient, little puppy.

“Make this time count. Impress me.”

The words sounded almost threatening. (Y/N) gathered herself and leaned forward to untuck his length from his undone pants. He was heavy in her hand and radiating warmth. She could barely get her fingers around the shaft. Despite his conceited, taciturn frontage, he was still throbbing in her hand and the liquid beading at the tip told her he was not as patient as he pretended. She lifted her head and searched his stoic face. His cheeks weren’t even dusted the slightest shade of pink. His red eyes subdued and empty. He ran a hand through his hair, a few strands falling over his forehead. The man grumbled.

“Pity…”

He huffed. (Y/N), his velvety victim, sweat-studded skin glimmering in the low light, began pumping her hand experimentally. She pushed her hair to one side and sank her lips onto the tip before pressing further. He let out a faint, nasally “ah”, as if he were regarding a pretty day and not a beautiful girl with her lips wrapped around him. Perhaps, (Y/N) wasn’t the only one rather inexperienced. She could see Wesker taking women by storm as he did with her, but more personal, intimate acts of attraction and need were probably very new to him. The thought sent confetti of sparks across her body. Becoming accustomed to the ache in her jaw, she began bobbing her head more, cringing at the sounds she would make when he would slide to the back of her throat. A hand tangling itself in her hair brought her out of her haze. Everything was quiet except for the crackling of the fire. (Y/N) desperately wished she could draw noise out of him, thought it was probably not going to happen. The situation was too much and the serum was driving her up a wall. (Y/N) snaked a hand underneath herself and slipped it in her panties. Every slide of her fingers set her body on fire. Wesker quickly noticed her ministrations and wagged a finger. “Patience, little bird.”

With a defeated whimper, she pulled her hand out of her panties and focused all her energy on sucking him. Her heart flailed like a caught bird as she ran her tongue up his length along a vein and thoughtfully kitten licked the tip. His hips were still and his breath was steady, seemingly unaffected by her efforts. She let out the cutest whimpers and squeaks as she swallowed him down with all her might. A lot hinged on this night. (Y/N) tilted her head to the side and felt him brush against the inside of her cheek. She opened one eye and snuck another quick glance up at the man. Seeing his half-lidded eyes sent her body into internal combustion, engulfed in a completeness of stupor as she tasted him. She lost tentative approximations with a confusion of perception metamorphosing him into eyespots of fire. The lust never ebbed and (Y/N) couldn’t help, but jolt with excitement at the idea of him touching her gentle and dreamy regions once more. She broke away panting with strings of saliva connecting her mouth to his length. “Hah…”

Wesker tilted his head to the side and awaited her explanation for the warm wetness stopping.

“Poor performance, indeed. You know exactly what I want, and I’m not exactly a patient person.”

The girl sputtered and stared up at him with tear-bright eyes. The need was becoming insatiable and he knew perfectly well she couldn’t hold out any longer. He had her wrapped around his finger. “It’s t-too much…I need…”

Wesker snickered at her suffering. “More? Then show me. Show me your desperation and how lost you’ve become in your amorous fog.”

In the miniature, still-human recess of Albert Wesker’s mind, he was excited to finally have his needs met after so long. Though the countless injections of virus upon virus had rid him of almost all worldly desires, they still peaked through at times. He lied to himself about imagining her sweet and pouting mouth around the head of his girth. He had a feeling (Y/N) had a wicked streak, a penchant for teasing until he became frustrated enough to hold her down and take what’s rightfully his. There was a mischievous glint in her big, innocent eyes that he wanted to become better acquainted with.

“Hmm…I love the way you revel in provoking me, in teasing me until I can’t help but want to ruin you.” He growled at a dangerous octave. “You belong to me, little bird. Not just the parts you are comfortable in sharing. No. Every single inch of your flesh and all thoughts running through your head, they are mine. Owned. I recommend you start accepting this for it will make the times when I grab you, hoist you up and assault you a little more pleasant.”

His fingers dug into her supple hips and dragged her up, forcing her to straddle his powerfully-built body.

“Now take me and repeat after me, ‘Yours. All Yours’. Say it over and over again, make it your mantra, your prayer.”

(Y/N) nodded furiously, sweat beginning to form on her brow and neck in feverish anticipation. She grasped him with unsure fingers and positioned herself, balancing a hand on his chest. “Yours…All yours.” Taking a breath, she began to experimentally lower onto him. A pitiful cry tore from her lips as the agonizingly sweet pressure that grew as she was stretched open. Tears pooled in her eyes, she hung her head, and tried to concentrate on finding the right angle. She pressed down harder and the head popped into her a bit too suddenly. “Y-yours…a-ah…all yours…”

I made you so eager that you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, shifting around, thinking about how badly you want me inside of you. Now, show me how badly I know you want me.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and rose up quickly, despite the pain. She sank down again and shuddered as the angle sent jolts running up her spine. She gasped and gripped his thigh to help her go faster, but quickly retreated her palm, feeling it was too intimate for his likings. Not sure what to do with her hands, she placed one on her own thigh and the other draped over her bouncing breast.

“It’s so cute how desperate you are to please me. My goddess, I’m going to break you.”

Weskers arms came up and snaked around the girl tightly, roughly pulling her flush against his solid body. “A-ah!” He gripped her to the point of deep bruising and slammed up into her at a neck-breaking pace. He was so close. In fact, they were both teetering on the edge of heaven. Drool ran down the young lady’s chin as she whined out for him. Her body was growing stronger with the T-virus he had injected her with, so he didn’t hold back an ounce of strength and vigor this time. “Good girl.” He crooned. True to nature, he didn’t sound winded in the slightest. (Y/N) rolled her head to face Wesker. Their noses were nearly touching. He was staring at her as best he could manage through the shaking force of driving his hips up into hers. His pupils had constricted into tiny slits and the red of his irises were gleaming like hot coals. To hear him praise her and the just the way he squeezed her on top of him like he couldn’t get enough of her skin rubbing against his was enough to send her careening on a rocket to the moon. 

(Y/N) cried out softly and froze at the sinful squish her wet slit made as she took him inside over and over. She sobbed into the pillow Wesker laid his head on, her fight to keep up fading away gradually as he continued with his viciousness. The girl could feel her walls starting to flutter around his girth and her shame intensifying as she felt her edge steadily approaching. The blonde’s death grip loosened just enough for a hand to slip across her slick skin, under and up to her throat where he grasped it lightly. “You’ve been very obedient, little bird. You don’t have to hold on for me anymore.”

(Y/N) shuddered underneath him as she unraveled in a cute, high-pitched whine, her essence coating his length as her nerves snapped and burst into flames. Her sugary walls clenched and spasmed around him and he sped up as a result. She was becoming dizzier and more disoriented as he slammed into her, nearly driving her back into the headboard. Wesker pushed in as deep as he could manage and spilled inside, pulsating as he pumped her full of his seed with a triumphant growl. Much like last time, the first real sound he made was when he climaxed.

(Y/N) could only gather that she had passed out, because when she awoke, she was laying with a pillow propped up under her head, hair spread out like a halo. The covers were up to her chin and Wesker was fully dressed in his usual attire, fixing the cuff of his trench coat before slipping his sunglasses back on.

“Rest.”

He commanded, as if he heard her eyes opening. It had to be the middle of the night by now and he was leaving.

“Will…you be back?” She uttered sleepily.

“Always.”

He cocked a grin and strode for the door, vanishing outside. He was like a phantom. The door closed and she was alone in her thoughts. The silence was deafening.

This could never be anything more than it was. Why did the realization upset her so? Why did she care if the callous bastard had a single sliver of fondness for her? Wesker didn’t love any of the women he kept around. Maybe he had felt a touch of fascination with (Y/N) due to her uncommonly-sweet personality and similar ideals. But it was tinged with a twisted covetousness and sinister softness. It must be lonely being a god. Perhaps the pursuit was a needed distraction from his visions of grandeur and diplomacies of omnipotence. Feasibly, but, he left her alive. She could bring down the entire operation, but he trusted her enough to let her continue breathing.

It was probably because he knew (Y/N) was aware he could snap her like a twig in the blink of an eye, but the way the lines of toil smoothed when he looked at her was not a trick of the light or a mirage. Of course, most of the words he spoke were punitive, he was relaxed and bordering on confiding. Unbelievably, he had tucked her into bed when she had passed out after the rough lovemaking session. Lovemaking? Well, it was a bit more emotional that just hooking up. She was his Queen. His goddess. She wondered what he was like when not under the effects of viruses and high on power. Perhaps he would have kissed her. Something in her soul told her that the still-human remains of his heart wanted to.

No matter how many times (Y/N) went around in circles on the matter, the final thought was always the same. There was something there. There was a tiny ember in the sooty-black that was the entirety of his being. All in all, she felt like a butterfly pinned to a corkboard, trapped, unmoving, being studied closely. The eyes felt cruel and admiring all at once. She was hopelessly caught and Wesker was the lepidopter.


End file.
